You Cut Me Open
by Irrelevancy
Summary: When Roy gets assigned to a partnership with Maes, he had to do something to let his friend know how he really felt. MaesRoy.


**A/N: The story was supposed to be waaaay longer. By some strange alchemy-gone-wrong, Roy's soul/mind/heart was transported into another dimension, where it's high school or rather art school-AU. But, I'm obviously way too lazy to do anything longer than a oneshot, and... voila. Here this is.**

**Hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: FMA does not belong to me in any way whatsoever, or else Maes wouldn't have died and this fanfic would've never existed.**

* * *

When Roy had created this dance, he meant for it to be bittersweet, and slightly ironic.

Never had he thought it would be so intense, deep, heart-felt.

Tear-inducing.

The idea was simple enough, handed to them by the teacher. "One person must go." Alright. Roy could do that. He's experienced enough lost to pull that off.

Then he discovered his partner.

At that moment, Roy could only blink at the grinning man in shock. When the memories- the telephone booth, the grave, rain- flooded his mind, tears threatened to escape the eyes of his teenage body. He started doubting himself, then. Could he finish this task, with Maes Hughes, of all people?

The song Maes picked didn't help matters, either.

The moment Roy got access to his Mac, he found the song and downloaded to his iTunes, uploading it straight onto his iPod Touch and put it on eternal loop. He went to sleep with the earphones still attached, and woke up with trails of tears running down the corners of his eyes.

Then he started thinking about the dance.

He figured it could be simple enough; just put the lyrics into movement. And that's what he started out doing, listening to the tempo, the lyrics, and finding the perfect step, the perfect gesture to accompany that.

But it felt empty.

So Roy took a daring step. He grabbed onto Hughes's hand.

Maes had looked on with shock at first, and instinctively, both teens threw each other off. Then Maes grinned, like he realized Roy had planned the whole thing, and Roy could only look on with a smile, not daring to let him know it was completely unintentional.

The dance got more intimate from there. The intimacy that didn't have much to do with the bodies, but more with the souls and their resonance, perfectly shifting into each others' wavelength.

Roy didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

All he knew was, by the end of the day and by the end of the dance, he was exhausted. Physically and emotionally. The undeveloped muscles he had to strain, the overflowing pathos he had to bury. He couldn't wait for the looming darkness to take over his senses, and he could fall into blissful oblivion. Right before he collapsed into bed, however, half-lidded eyes caught onto the silver of his iPod. His hand reached out of their own accord, picking the music player up gingerly, like one would treat a ceramic doll. Just as slowly, just as carefully, he pressed the buds into his ears without regard for the R and L on either one, and pressed play.

The scene he woke up to was so disconcerting, he almost forgot the performance was today as he wiped away the tears on his cheeks.

Dance after dance went by, and all too soon, it was their turn. Maes clasped his shoulder with an excited grin, dressed to the nines in his three-pieced suit. Roy smiled back in return, shifting his white button-up and vest ever so slightly. During the walk up to the stage, Roy could sense his partner's unease, but also his eagerness. It's this he's always loved about the man, during the days at the academy, the Ishbal War, afterwards- Maes had always been so upbeat and positive, he sunned up Roy's entire existence.

Maybe it was because of this little reminisce, little revelation, that things ended the way it did.

The song begins, music resonating around the hall. Apparently, this dimension's Roy and Maes were pretty popular, for applause, whistles, and catcalls sounded immediately as they walked up stage, and even more when they stood back to back.

_"I'll watch your back, Roy."_

Roy frowned, when he turned towards the audience. Apparently, his memories had a separate mind altogether, and chose this moment to break surface.

_Closed off from love, I didn't need the pain._

In the audience's eyes, Roy Mustang danced really well. In Maes's eyes, his partner's movements gained a new edge, a new intensity to them, as if every move was personal, every step his.

_"I want you, Roy... I want you now..."_

The duo were so perfectly synced, like they lived for this routine, lived to bring it alive.

_Once or twice was enough, and it was all in vain._

Roy's grip was harsh, and desperate, on Maes's hand, and when green eyes turned to stare and question silently, his friend's eyes seemed so much older, wiser, crueler than he's ever seen them.

_"Your heat... Warm me, Maes... I need you..."_

Roy threw his hand away like he was denying his whole existence, and Maes could barely remember the next move before grabbing the suitcase on the ground with a troubled frown.

_Time starts to pass, before you know it you're frozen._

Storm-colored eyes stared blankly ahead at the memories of heated nights, sensitive passion, until the touch on his elbow startled him out of his reverie.

_Morning light shined through the cracks in the tent walls; Roy wanted to reach out to grab Hughes before he left, shrugging on his coat, but retracted his hand at the last moment, feigning sleep when the green-eyed man turned._

Roy's hand shot out at Maes's shoulder, fingers digging into the suit, pulling him back, and gently eased down the arm he had with the suitcase.

_Mhmm..._

Maes's scent was enticing, and Roy couldn't help but fall forward, spine arching in a sensual bend. But Maes leaned away, at the last second, so Roy's eyes traced air and hurt and loss.

_Roy wanted to accomplish what he couldn't last night, and managed to place a hand on his friend's back, shoving him forward in the pretense of urging him to quickly get his breakfast so Roy could have his turn._

His trembling palm was still on Hughes's back, even as they moved together down, up, side, until finally, Maes turned, and Roy couldn't resist anymore.

_But something happened for the very first time with you._

All he wanted to do was to grab onto Maes - his friend, his sun, his life - but he had to settle for tender touches, barely landing on the felt of the suit.

_"Hungry, Roy?" Hughes asked with a sly smirk._

Maes grabbed onto the two hands on his chest and read the longing in his best friend's eyes, swinging him gently from side to side, to comfort, to coax.

_My heart melted to the ground found something true._

Roy turned accordingly, and knew Maes would follow him in every move he makes, every step he takes, pressed tightly to his back.

_"For something considered to be part of an actual food group," Roy shot back, walking forward quickly to hide the faint blush of embarrassment._

For a second, all Maes could see was the black hair in front of him, and feel the slim body pressed back against his; then Roy was gone, and back again, this time before him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

_And everyone's looking 'round thinking I'm going crazy._

He wished Maes would just let him stay. He wished and wished and wished so hard, his heart tore apart when he felt the gentle hands at his waist turn forceful.

_Roy ate breakfast with his regiment that day, and didn't dare look at Maes's table even once._

Maes was going to leave him again. Roy couldn't let that happen. Never if he could help it. Never, ever.

_..._

The suitcase slid far away, out of sight, out of mind, and Roy didn't dare watch those sparkling green eyes turn worried as they trace its trajectory.

_That noon and night went by like quick blurs. Nothing happened without Maes. This was becoming a bitter pattern._

They turned to look at the audience, Maes troubled by his friend's strange behavior, and Roy wondering why they were cheering and if he hadn't made his pain obvious enough.

_But I don't care what they say, I'm in love with you. They try to pull me away, but they don't know the truth._

The next part was choreographed by Maes, and it was every bit as intense as Roy's. Every bit as exhausting, every bit as fitting.

_Roy wasn't known for his careless laughter and easy-going personality - Maes was._

But Roy couldn't help but wonder, if he was the only one with the devil's (Maes's?) hand clutched tightly around his heart as he moved, mirroring Maes, every time he turned to look at him.

_My heart's crippled by the vein that I keep on closin'..._

Maes couldn't help but be mesmerized by their perfect synchronization. They were like two pieces of a puzzle, designed to fit each other specifically, as he followed Roy's hand, then down his tense arm.

_And there was no way Roy could scorn his best friend for that. After all, who else could possibly be as bright and sunny with a darkness like Roy?_

It almost hurt when Roy turned away, and green eyes widened in surprise as their owner swallowed the gasp that would've sounded at the stab wound in his heart.

_You cut me open and I..._

Maes was frowning, Roy noticed, as he finally dared to look outside his peripherals at his partner, and could almost smile in anxious satisfaction.

_"I'm here for you, Roy."_

What actually showed on his face was the expression of utter pain, when he couldn't walk forward, couldn't lean back, and it was left to Maes to make the decision.

_Keep bleeding, keep keep bleeding love. I keep bleeding, I keep keep bleeding love._

They were supposed to mirror each other perfectly.

_"Maes! I'll watch your back!"_

They were _supposed_ to.

_Keep bleeding, keep keep bleeding love..._

But could the depth of Maes's obligated pain ever reach the excruciating agony etched onto Roy's face, heart, soul?

_"I promise you."_

No.

_You cut me open._

The truth? Roy was like a puppet, dancing on invisible strings, guided by Maes's too-visible hands.

_"There's a scar on your back, Roy."_

Whenever Maes wanted him, he'd be there. Wherever Maes held him, he'd stay.

_Roy could read the frown in his words._

Like the perfect doll, capable of anything as long as it's Maes who's making him dance.

_"It was an accident. Don't worry about it."_

When he tried to walk away, before he could take so much as a step, the gravity that was Maes would drag him down.

_Maes stared blankly at the healing scab._

He always had one hand on Roy's heart, and with everything else, yanked Roy along for the ride.

_"I'm sorry."_

Only he doesn't know it.

_Hollow, hollow words, spoken out of pity more than anything._

Tapered fingers tracing his heart, calculating where the perfect spot would be to rip it out and tear every inch into tiny tiny pieces.

_"Don't worry about it."_

Roy tried, once, and he was...

_Maes walked out of the infirmary tent, door falling shut behind him._

Gone.

_You cut me open and I...!_

Anger. Frustration. Denial. Grief.

_Keep bleeding, keep keep bleeding love..._

Purest, purest pain.

_You cut me open._

The suitcase was gone, Maes was gone. Only memories stayed, and forgotten tears left on top of a silver iPod, screen flickering to black as the battery died.

The audience went wild.

* * *

**A/N: ****The dance, oh the dance. It was sooooooo beautiful.**

**I mean, the real thing. Not my rendition of it here. While I think I actually managed not to kill it, this fic does the real dance NO JUSTICE WHATSOEVER.**

**My first FMA fic in a looooong time. And I think it's the only one I have that's MaesRoy. I adore this pairing, though only in angst, and it's BEAUTIFUL.**

**So if you want to watch the dance, go on YouTube and type in "sytycd Bleeding Love", and click the first result. It's so gorgeous, I could die.**

**Please please please please pleeeaaaase review~! And help me regain my confidence in the FMA fandom...!**


End file.
